


A Tale of the Right Thing; When the Moment Comes...

by ShamanOfHedon



Series: The Right Thing [8]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:46:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22433611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShamanOfHedon/pseuds/ShamanOfHedon
Summary: A story about the moment Marie realized you can't run from fate.
Series: The Right Thing [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/184181
Kudos: 5





	A Tale of the Right Thing; When the Moment Comes...

Tholer Saryoni sat impatiently in his office in the High Fane in Vivec City. He was eagerly awaiting the return of his son Fevrith, a secret agent. Fevrith's one and only job in his service to the Tribunal Temple, which superseded ANY duties of the Armigers or the Ordinators, was to find and follow around every single person that claimed to be the Incarnate, the prophesied Nerevarine. He had done this for nigh 300 years now, serving his father and the Temple, proving each new Incarnate a fraud, documenting their varied failures to prove their claim. Each time the two of them would gloat and mock the fallen pretenders, and make records of each new dead body littering the floor of the cave the Incarnates almost always died in. The cave where Lord Nerevar's ring was kept.

Previously Tholer always awaited his son's return from these missions happily, with calm and patience, knowing the outcome would always be the same, because Lord Vivec swore to them the Nerevarine would never actually exist. But this time was different. The reports he received from his son were almost immediately troubling.

Every previous Incarnate had lead to Fevrith's reports being mocking and condescending about the subject of his surveillance. But these reports concerned Tholer. From the very first report, Fevrith sounded different. There was no mocking sarcasm or condescending jokes in his reports. Something about this new Incarnate was different than all before her. Something that gave Fevrith pause. This was the first Incarnate to not be Dunmer. Not only that, but she was barely even grown, only 17, and behaved nothing like the others before her. All prior Incarnates were arrogant, sure of themselves, eagar to prove themselves, diving headlong into all the challenges, so sure they'd succeed.

But not this girl. She was a Breton, pale, with pointier than average ears that made her mixed Mer heritage more noticable than most Bretons. More than that, she didn't even WANT to be on Vvardenfell, and openly spoke of how she thought all this Nerevarine nonsense was garbage, that there was no way she could POSSIBLY be the reincarnation of Indoril Nerevar, how she was being forced by the Blades at the behest of Emporer Uriel Septim VII, as a condition of her being released from prison in Cyrodil. He wrote of howe she actively procrastinated following the path of the Incarnate, putting the tasks and trials off as long as she could, prefering to spend her time helping strangers in need. She only finally truly began undertaking the Path of the Incarnate when her Blades handlers forced the issue and reminded her that the terms of her release MUST be honoured lest she be returned to prison.

Each new report Tholer received from his son grew more and more troubling. People around the island were beginning to praise and revere her, and murmurs amongst the populace were that a majority of the people believed this frail waif of an Outlander could actually BE the Nerevarine. Even the three Great Houses with a presence on Vvardenfell respected her. House Hlaalu accepting her meant little of course, as accepting of Outlanders as they are. But then House Redoran, the Great House most deeply and fervently distrustful of outsiders, not only accepted her, but were the first to name her Hortator. This tiny child had earned their respect in both combat and diplomacy. But then she did the same with House Telvanni, even as she openly showed public disdain for their ownership of slaves. Even Ordinators, whose literal duty is to strike down Incarnates if they cause too much trouble, were beginning to be in quiet awe of her. Tholer was, frankly, desperate to see his son and be told that she was dead, as he was scheduled to return and report on the girl entering the Cavern of the Incarnate. Tholer was desperately hoping to hear she had died as all before her had. But not only because of the waves she was making among the people.

He was worried about his son above all else. Part of Fevrith's spy duties was to keep his distance, to observe in secret, to take notes, to never be detected. And until now he never had been. But the Breton girl, known only as Marie, had somehow clocked Fevrith within the first day.

\-------------------

Marie was running an errand for the Blades to ingratiate herself with the Fighter's Guild, walking the streets of Balmora. She was in as foul a mood as ever, her life being yanked around like a marionette by smug Imperial assholes, holding her life sentence for murdering a man she stopped from beating an elderly woman over her. She hated all of this. Being carted off to a volcanic island against her will, forced to con the locals into believing she was some great reincarnated hero. It was complete and utter nonsense. Reincarnation, destiny, prophecies. It was all insane. And for the Blades to expect her, a teenager with a chip on her shoulder, to convince an entire island of Mer who hated and distrusted outsiders to accept her as some living divine being of prophecy? It was the absolute stupidest idea she had ever heard. But she had no choice. It was comply with the con, or go back to Cyrodil to rot in prison for the rest of her life.

As she walked towards the Fighter's Guild, she stopped. For a moment she stood there, then abruptly continued walking, but changed direction. Fevrith, who had been watching her for days now after first having heard rumours of the Blades bringing an Outlander here to attempt the trials, was taken aback, curious as to why she had suddenly changed directions. He wondered if perhaps she had decided to abandon this fool's errand and make a break for it, hoping to escape her leash holders and flee. He quickly realized how wrong he was when he felt the tip of a dagger draw the slightest trickle of blood from the back of his neck.

"And why, praytell," Marie asked, "have you been following me around this miserable rock for the past week?"

"How did you..." he replied, in utter shock, and turned to look at her. She made no effort to stop him, even sheathing her dagger. She was satisfied with the blood on Fevrith's neck that she had quite firmly made her point that if he was a threat to her, she'd defend herself without hesitation. He stood, and nodded to her in acknowledgement of her point being quite clearly understood.

"Because," he said, "it's my duty. You are a potential Incarnate, about to undertake the path, and it is my duty to observe Incarnates in secret to prove them frauds."

"Well then," Marie replied, "I can save you the trouble. I am absolutely NOT your Incarnate. This insanity wasn't my idea. I'm just doing what I have to so I can be free of Imperials controlling my life. I've only just even been taught about this inane prophecy, and I honestly find the entire idea ridiculous. I'm not even Dunmer. Hell I was raised by Bosmer in Valenwood. The very IDEA that I'm some prophesied reincarnation of some great warrior, a man mind you, who died... what, five or six THOUSAND bloody years ago? It's absolutely preposterous."

"Then why go along with it?" Fevrith asked.

"Because if I don't I go back to prison for daring to save an old woman from a crooked guard," she replied. "I have no choice. The Empire is everywhere, there's no place I could ever find where they can't find me. So until I can think of some way to get out of this without becoming a bloody fugitive, I'm playing along."

"Then," Fevrith said, "I'm afraid I must continue to follow and observe you."

"Fine," Marie replied. "Just don't get in my way. I seem to have a knack for attracting trouble when I help people. I don't.... I don't like bullies. And I don't stand idly by when people are in danger or need help. And that has a tendency to attract the kinds of people who don't like people stopping them from hurting people. Keep your distance. I won't have your death on my conscience because you got killed following me around."

\--------------------

After that meeting was when things changed. Fevrith began to write about the girl with respect, even admiration, and yet also with sadness. He never explained about Marie's past, so Tholer had no idea why this girl was as she was. Fevrith didn't feel that information was his to share, not even with his father. He stuck only to his duty to observe her and record her actions in pursuit of the trials. And pursue them she did. And finally she had done all she needed to do to complete her trials. She had been named Hortator thrice over, and every Ashlander tribe had named her Nerevarine. All that remained to officially become the first Incarnate EVER to be truly named Nerevarine was the Cavern. 

Fevrith finally entered his father's office, saying nothing. He looked at Tholer for a moment, his eyes heavy and sad, and fetched himself an entire bottle of Flin from his father's alcohol cabinet. He sat on the chair in front of his father's desk, and slumped in it, downing the entire bottle, then throwing it against the wall, shattering it. Tholer jumped, startled by the noise, having never seen his son in such a state.

"What..." he hesitantly asked, "what happened in the cavern?"

Fevrith finally looked back up at his father, his eyes welling up with tears.

"The single most heartbreaking thing I have ever seen," he replied in a broken defeated voice. Tholer breathed a sigh of relief.

"Then she died," he said, "and you are sad because you've grown fond of this one?"

Fevrith just straight up began cackling, a loud, heavy guttural laugh, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of it.

"No," he finally replied when he regained his composure. "No, she's very much alive. She's hiding somewhere, I do not know exactly where. I ler her go. She needs time alone to process. So I chose to not follow. She will come here, to us, when she is ready to face what comes next."

"She lives?" Tholer asked, shocked by the revelation. "How? Lord Vivec told us this could never come to pass!"

"LORD VIVEC LIED!!!" Fevrith screamed at him. "He bloody LIED to us father. He lied to all of us. For millennia. He bloody ADMITTED it to me when I reported to him before coming here. He knew Azura would make good on her promise when Dagoth's threat became too imminent, Vivec was simply hoping to have more time before it happened. He did not even TRY to deny it to me, and told me to let you know you were to announce to his people that Marie is in fact the Nerevarine."

"But..." Tholer said, stumbling through his words, "but that means..."

"Yes Father," Fevrith replied. "It means everything we had faith in was a lie. And that poor broken girl is going to suffer for it."

Tholer just stared at his son for a moment, and collected his thoughts. After a moment, he asked something.

"You said," he began, "you said that what happened in the cavern was heartbreaking. If that is not because she died, then why? Was she not overjoyed to learn she was a dinine being?"

"No," Fevrith replied, fetching himself another bottle of flin, "she was absolutely horrified.

\--------------------

Marie stood in the cavern, surrounded by the ghosts of those who came before her, having just been spoken to by an actual Daedric Prince. The ghosts faded away shortly after Azura had, leaving only Marie and Fevrith in the cavern. They'd known each other almost 7 months now, and she considered him as close to a friend now as she had ever had. She held Moon-And-Star in her palm, staring at it.

"It wasn't just a dream," she said quietly.

"What wasn't?" Fevrith asked.

"On the boat here," she replied, "from Cyrodil, I had a nightmare. In it I heard that woman's voice, telling me I was being brought to my destiny. Until just now I dismissed it as exactly that; a bad dream. Brought on by either bad fish or turbulent waves as we sailed. I hadn't even much thought about it until now. But... but that was actually.... that was a literal actual God telling me to try on this ring, wasn't it?"

"It was," Fevrith replied, unwilling to lie to Marie. "Perhaps it's time you tried it on then?"

"I was ready to take this ring to the ocean and toss it in the water," Marie said, "and end this endless cycle of insanity. But if that truly was Azura, then the fabled curse on this ring is real, and if I'm not the Nerevarine, putting it on WILL kill me, yes?"

"Yes," he said.

"At this point," she said sadly, half smiling, "I think death would be a very peaceful, wonderful escape frtom all of this."

With that she immediately thrust the ring upon her finger, so abruptly that Fevrith tried to stop her out of genuine concern. But she did not keel over. She did not burst into flames. She did not mekt into a puddle, or dissolve into ash. She simply stood there, quietly. Finally she turned to look at Fevrith, holding up her hand for him to see, Moon-And-Star snugly on her finger, as her lip trembled and her eyes welled up. Suddenly she fell to her knees, screamed at the top of her lungs, and finally just fell into Fevrith's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Fevrith just held her, stroking her hair and letting her cry. He had come to not only respect her and care about her, but to think of her as if a little sister. After what felt like forever, she finally composed herself, and pulled back from his arms to sit cross legged before him, staring at her hand. He sat with her.

"It's all true," she said quietly. "All of it. Isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so," Fevrith said. "It shouldn't be. Lord Vivec told us it was impossible. But you put the ring on and lived. There IS no other explanation. You ARE the Nerevarine. You ARE Indoril Nerevar reborn. And now you must face Dagoth Ur and destroy the Heart of Lorkhan. It is an unimaginable honour. You should be proud."

"BUT I DON'T WANT THIS!!!" Marie screamed, beginning to cry again. "I don't want ANY of this! I never did! I don't want to be a figure to be worshiped, or a divine being! I don't want to be anyone's hero! I help people because it's the right thing to do and almost no one else seems willing to do it! I don't want to be revered for it! I don't even understand why!"

"Why what?" Fevrith asked.

"Why ME?" she replied, this scared terrified child, sick with her stomach in knots over the impossibly huge weight she could no longer deny or pretend was some ridiculous nonsense.

"I'm nobody. I'm no one important, I'm nothing. I'm just a girl. I've spent the last 5 years scrounging up whatever I could on the streets to just survive. I killed a man last year. I was in prison. There's nothing special about me, and I DON'T BLOODY WANT THIS!!!"

Marie just hugged her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them, crying into her knees, just mumbling "why me?" to herself over and over. Fevrith finally realized the true magnitude of what was happening. He began this year expecting to expose another fraud, to be standing over a corpse and removing the ring to letr the next fool find it. He never expected this to happen, and when he saw it happen with his own eyes, he expected her to be elated to find that she was guaranteed to be revered like a God. But seeing this poor, broken, terrified girl, barely on the cusp of adulthood, sobbing in horror at what lay ahead of her, and he realized how cruel all of this was. For a God to put such a crippling weight on the shoulders of a child, to expect her to save the entire world from a mad god in a volcano, to put the fate of millions in the hands of a terrified girl who never even wanted to be here. And his heart sank, and all he felt now was pity.

"I won't tell you it will all be okay," Fevrith said. "I see now, for you, it will never be okay again. And it isn't fair for fate to have given you all of this. But..."

He reached for her hand and held it in his. She made no move to stop him, still crying quietly.

"I believe," he said solemnly, "I think you're the only one who CAN bear this weight. BECAUSE you are nobody. You've learned to care about others because you know what it's like to have nothing, to BE nothing. You learned, through such cruelty and hardship, how to be the one thing so few people in this world ever are; kind. You're not always NICE of course. I've seen you be quite bitchy and curt with people, you don't play nice with fools or bastards, you barely have the most basic of common manners at times, and you often act before you think. But you are always kind, and always willing to help those in need. I can think of no one else who COULD carry this burden. Because who else would risk their life in a fool's errand to take on a living God and save millions. I AM sorry you must bear this weight. But I am glad it's YOU who bears it. I would trust no one else to do so."

Marie hugged him and stood. "I'm going to need some time to wrap my mind around all of this," she said. "I'll come find you in Vivec when I'm ready."

With that, they left the cavern.

\-----------------------

Tholer slumped in his seat. He tried to process the gut punching realization that his faith was built on a lie, and that a child was being asked to face a madman and save the world. He grabbed a bottle of his own, and he and his son spent the rest of the night trying to drink the horror away.

Three weeks later, Dagoth Ur was dead, and the Heart of Lorkhan was destroyed. Tholer and Fevrith were sitting in private room in Ald Velothi, with Divayth Fyr and a very familiar yet completely unfamiliar woman. They say quietly, just sharing a drink.

"It's good to see you again," the white haired and one eyed woman said to the three.

"I am still quite frankly amazed," Divayth said to her. "I assumed, granted, that your modern day younger self would be very different from the woman I met i the Clockwork City 7 centuries ago, but how that frightened angry little girl eventually became you mystifies me."

"Really?" the white haired woman smirked. "It ought not seem so strange. I aged into a contemplative wise old woman with the restraint of a saint. You aged into a crazy old man who sleeps with his own female clones."

"Who else could tolerate me?" Divayth smiled. The two laughed while Tholer and Fevrith just sat there, slightly confused, still trying to process what Divayth had told them yesterday. That this scarred woman at the table was a much older version of Marie, who had been displaced in time and was well over a thousand years old.

"Pardon," Fevrith said, "but I'm.... still confused as to exactly why you asked us here, and why you have trusted us with information we probably ought not know. Isn't this... I don't know, a threat to the timeline you say you went in the past to preserve?"

"Not really," Marie said. "It's me still keeping it intact. Because I vividly recall the two of you supporting me through all my trauma over the next few years, and protecting me from realizing what you already suspected even before today."

Tholer smirked sadly.

"You mean how you're a Goddess like Almalexia now?" he said. "After all, power like that which the Heart held cannot be destroyed, only moved. It had maintained our false Gods for millenia, it HAD to go somewhere. Where more likely than straight into the one who freed it from it's container?"

"Exactly," Divayth said. "And it will be up to the two of you to make sure she doesn't find out. She's not ready. It will absolutely break her if she figures it out now."

"Honestly," Marie said, "it almost breaks me 47 years from now when I finally figure it out on my own. I only manage to deal with it then because I'll have put up with so much by then that it just ends up being another boulder to dodge on the hill. But I know how frail I am right now, and I fear that if I find out now, I'll just break and go mad. And sadly, I still have SO much to do. That sad scared young girl I was needs you both. Keep her safe and strong so she can eventually become me."

"We will do our best," Fevrith said sadly. He looked at Old Marie, known to the locals as Miss Var, and smiled sadly. "I am sorry for what became of you. no one deserves what you have, and I suppose will yet endure. I'm sorry, these tenses get confusing."

"Be glad you don't have to listen to us chat over cards," Divayth said. "Honestly it took us a century to finally master the tenses, and back then I still knew only this version of her. Even at my age with all my knowledge it was a struggle to remember which time period she was discussing at any given time. But I adapted, eventually. Although it helps that I ended up being partially responsible for her being what she is. I do not imagine I will ever not feel guilty about it. But Marie insisted I had to cure her younger self's Corprus no matter what so that history would be protected."

"I am sorry," Marie said, "to burden you both with this. But you Fev, were probably the only person my younger self truly trusted. It..... it can be no one else. I would never have felt safe with anyone else. It has to be you, Big Brother."

Fevrith smiled.

"Happy to help Little Sister," he replied. "If you taught me anything in the Cavern that day, it was to do the right thing no matter how hard."

Marie looked at her hand, at Moon-And-Star on her finger.

"The right thing is rarely the EASY thing," she said. "But it's ALWAYS the ONLY thing."

As they all finished their drinks and chatted awhile more, the present day young Marie was booking passage to Deshaan, to track down the Dark Brotherhood. And her already turbulent life would only get stranger.


End file.
